


I’ll know I love you now

by tisziny



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 16:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4673717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisziny/pseuds/tisziny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of an argument Phryne and Jack struggle to find common ground while investigating a murder that hits close to home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I’ll know I love you now

Jack crouched down in the dark alleyway. It was midmorning and he’d been called to the discovery of a woman in the city’s rougher streets. The ground beneath his feet was thick with dirt and grime, and a considerable blood pool, partially soaked up by the sheet a constable had laid over the body.

He pulled the sheet back into place, hiding the blood stained coat and the dark matted hair. Without looking up he knew she was there. He had always been able to sense her presence, why should it be so different now?

“Well, certainly one of our more stylish victims, if I do say so myself.” Phryne said, standing opposite to where he was crouched over the body, “It is a shame about the blood.”

He looked up at her with a stern frown, “Why are you here?” he demanded.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Phryne asked, “Surely I’m to be expected.” She smiled charmingly at him and he sighed, standing up.

“Yes well,” he swallowed, “I’m sure this case won’t be of much interest to you-”

“Oh but it is.” Phryne insisted. “Come on Jack, don’t shut me out now. This is what we do best, remember?”

He paused, closing his eyes for a moment as he found himself wishing, just for a moment, that he couldn’t. Memories had too much power over the soul, he thought. They tore you down and ate you away from the inside out. He’d experienced enough of that in his lifetime, and had no desire for more.

When Jack opened his eyes again however, it was to find Phryne still standing before him. Her arms were crossed as she waited for him, an eyebrow raised.

Jack sighed. 

“All right,” he murmured, “You can stay.”

She smiled. “You’ve forgiven me then?” she asked happily, “You know my mother always used to say you should never go to bed on an argument. I suppose she was probably right.”

“Yes, she probably was.” Jack found himself agreeing, “she sounds like a smart woman.”

“Well, I had to get my sharp mind from somewhere, Jack, and you’ve met my father. It wasn’t from him.” She grinned teasingly, then returned her attention to the scene at hand. “Tell me, what do you think happened?”

Jack hesitated a moment, “Blunt force trauma to the back of the head,” he murmured, “and one stab wound to the back. No knife has been found, but the constables are still searching the surrounding area.”

“Never even saw the attack coming,” Phryne sighed, looking wistfully down at the sheet covered body. “What was the motive?”

“This part of the city late at night? Could be anything, but I’m leaning toward robbery. No jewellery, or handbag.”

“So a random attack, you think?”

“Most likely.”

Phryne paused, muted for a moment as she contemplated this fact. It was such a devastating waste of life. And the amount of blood, plus the location of the wound suggested a slow death. No one deserved that.

There were no witnesses, the body hadn’t even been discovered until one of the uniformed officers made a morning patrol along this area.

Just then Senior Constable Collins appeared at the end of the alley. He stepped forward a little hesitantly, his eyes flicking to the blood stained sheet and then to the Inspector. He swallowed, and impatiently Jack cut in before the constable could find his voice.

"What is it, Collins?"

"Uh, we've searched all the nearby streets and alleyways, sir. And we've found no sign of the bag or jewellery."

"And the knife?" Phryne asked, her eyebrows raised, "With a wound like that I assume there was one."

Hugh didn't respond, just met the Inspector's gaze sheepishly, "I- I thought I might see if there are any pawn shops around, sir? In case whoever took her things wanted to make quick money on them?"

Jack nodded, "Very good, Collins." He said gruffly, "But you don't need to check with me. You've got the lead on this one."

"What?" Phryne's eyes widened, "I mean no offense Hugh, of course, but Jack, why-" Jack spoke over her, his eyes focused firmly on his constable.

"Get onto that quickly now Collins, and I will... I will make the notification to family."

Eyes wide, Hugh nodded and quickly turned around to leave the Inspector alone with Miss Fisher once more.

With one last look down to the sheet, Jack squared his shoulders and began to walk to his car.

Phryne floundered, rushing to catch up to him. "Jack, what-" she began, "Why on earth is Hugh leading this case?"

"He's more than capable of handling this." Jack muttered lowly, not turning to face her as he walked around to the driver's side of his police vehicle and climbing in.

Phryne quickly climbed into the passenger side, "I know Hugh is a capable member of the constabulary, but surely you should be the one to-"

"He needs the experience." Jack said shortly, "I need to make the notification."

Realising she would not be getting any further explanation Phryne crossed her arms and sat in silence as he navigated the car through Melbourne to Russell Street. Once the car had stopped Jack lead the way across the road and through the doors of the station. He walked passed his office and through to a storage room, Phryne following closely.

She stood back as he searched a filing cabinet for a few minutes, eventually finding the file he needed.

"What do you need that for?" She asked in confusion.

"I need to know where to send the telegram to." Jack muttered.

He didn't speak again as he copied the destination down onto a blank sheet of his notebook. He returned the file and crossed the room, ready to head to their police telegram official.

Phryne walked with him, her steps in time with his as they moved through the otherwise empty corridors.

"Really Jack, couldn't somebody else be doing this?" she asked.

"I thought you wanted me on this case, Miss Fisher."

"Well yes," she agreed, "But I had thought we would be doing more then sending telegrams."

He rolled his eyes. "If you are bored, Miss Fisher," he said, coming to a stop outside the door he needed, "then you are more then welcome to leave." He opened the door and Phryne slipped in quickly before he could say another word. He sighed and closed the door behind them.

"Robinson!" A short old man greeted them with surprise. "What can I do for you?"

"Hello Ernie." Jack said. He'd always liked the stout man who ran City South's telegram office. "Need to send a telegram." He told the man, "To notify the daughter and parents of a victim in Collins' case."

"Of course." Ernie pulled out a form and slid it across his desk to Jack.

Phryne watched, idly leaning back against Ernie's desk as the Inspector filled the form. She peered down as he wrote about his 'great regret to inform you-' and his 'deepest sympathy in this time'. He signed it off and passed the form back to Ernie.

"Please let me know when they respond. I am sure they will have questions."

"Of course, of course." Ernie replied, taking the sheet and placing it next to the telegraph, "I'll send it right away, Inspector."

"Thank you." Jack gave the man a nod, then with Phryne once again on his heel, he left.

"Well then Jack," Phryne said as the door closed and they walked down the corridors once more, "Now that is done, what's next?"

"I continue to make notifications." Jack murmured.

Phryne nodded, "I want to come with you." she said.

Jack stopped, looking over at her in surprise, "I hardly think that's appropriate."

"Oh come on Jack. I'll be silent as the grave; you won't even know I'm there!"

He shook his head slightly, "I don't believe-"

"Cross my heart and hope to-"

Jack cut her off with a show of his hand and sighed, knowing it was hopeless to argue with her. "All right. You may join me."

Some twenty minutes later they were seated in his police car, moving along the drive of a fine Victorian estate. He stopped the car and stepped out moving with Miss Fisher two steps behind up to the front door. He rang and the door was opened almost immediately by a kindly looking housekeeper.

Jack introduced himself as was seen into the house and lead to a parlour.

Left alone Phryne plopped down into a lush armchair as Jack stood, hands nervously clasped together at his front.

Phryne watched him in silence as the minutes ticked by. She could see with each passing moment his nerves were mounting higher. Taking pity on him she decided to break her promise and the silence she had kept thus far.

"Did I ever tell you Jack, about the best Easter I ever had? I was eight, Janey and I spent the entire day with Guy and Arthur on a ridiculous hunt for sweets and Easter eggs. Father had actually taken the time to paint four dozen chicken eggs without any of of us knowing, and then he and Uncle Edward hid them all through the house and gardens.”

Jack looked to her, she was smiling wistfully.

“Guy of course thought it awfully boring, he broke one of Arthur’s eggs and they yelled horribly until Janey, she was such a sweet hearted girl Jack. She walked between them and gave Arthur her entire basket of eggs. Even Guy didn’t dare ruin that.”

Jack opened his mouth to respond when the door opened, and the lady of the house was announced. He closed it for a moment and turned away from Phryne, preparing himself for the task at hand.

Half an hour, some very strong tea and smelling salts later they left the distraught household and returned to the car.

Jack’s fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly, his face blank. Phryne watched him worriedly.

“Jack?” she murmured softly, “Are you… are you all right?”

“Fine.” He muttered, shaking himself and starting the engine. “It’s always hard; worst part of this job. But it has to be done. And it’s over now. I will manage.”

Phryne wasn’t convinced, but didn’t argue further.

With no active cases of his own, Jack decided to drive directly home rather than return to the station. He had skipped lunch, and was looking forward to an early dinner. He pulled his keys from his pocket once they arrived to the small house, and Phryne looked around happily. It was a quiet street, modest little houses lining each side of the road. Jack opened the gate and stepped to his front door, unlocking it and doffing his hat as she stepped inside.

Phryne followed him eagerly.

The entrance way was small, just barely big enough for the coat rack tucked into the corner, Jack’s overcoat and hat hanging from it next to two umbrellas. Two doors lined the left side of the walkway, and another at its end. Jack made his way to that last door leaving it open for Phryne as she dawdled behind.

“Funny isn’t it,” she said, walking into the sitting room and admiring the tastefully framed artworks on the wall, “We’ve known each other all this time, and this is the first time I’ve been to your house.”

Jack didn’t respond.

Phryne took her time to explore the house, admiring the books on the shelves and the photographs of Jack’s family atop the small mantle. Jack busied himself with dinner, then returned to the parlour and found a record. He played it, filling the long silence with the soft jazz.

Phryne smiled, “Will you read to me?” she asked, pointing to the book that lay open on the small table by his old armchair.

He nodded and indicated the matching chair for her to sit in as he picked up the book and sat. She curled her feet up into the chair, and Jack cleared his throat. He read out loud, his voice low and clear, and Phryne smiled as she listened. After some time he paused, placing the book open over the arm of his chair.

“I’m afraid I need to excuse myself a moment.” he apologised, standing.

Phryne smiled, “Quite all right Jack.”

He left the room to make use of the lavatory. He returned moments later and walked to the crystal decanter that had been his father’s, and carried it and two glasses to the table between the armchairs. He poured them each a glass of whiskey without thinking, then sat once more and resumed his reading. He drank as he read, occasionally refilling his glass, and only stopped when his words began to slur the slightest bit, his voice thick as he held back yawns.

“You sound tired.” Phryne murmured.

Jack looked across to her, surprised to find how dark the room had become. He glanced at the clock on the mantle and was shocked to see some hours had passed.

“Perhaps I had better stop.” He told her regretfully, placing the book down on the table once more.

She smiled, “Thank you for reading to me. You have such a wonderful voice.” Her eyes flickered down, “I- I am sorry about the other night Jack.”

Jack closed his eyes. They had not left things on a good note the last time they had shared an evening together. In fact it had been rather horrible. They had yelled, for the first time in their relationship, properly yelled and fought with each other until Jack had given her an ultimatum. Phryne had completely frozen, her eyes wide with shock, and taking her silence as an answer he had left.

The tears didn’t surprise him when he opened his eyes once more and wiped them from his face. He had perhaps had too much to drink.

“I’m sorry too.” He said gruffly. He stood, not sure where he was going to go, just knowing he wanted to get away from where their evening had turned.

Phryne stood too however and he stopped, staring at her.

“I wish I could do that night over Jack.” she whispered, “I really do. Please forgive me.”

Jack didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. If he opened that door now it would never go away. Instead he raised his hand, reaching for her slowly until his fingers hovered just inches from her face. He longed to brush back her hair, to pull her close and kiss her and love her and never let her go. But as her eyes closed, a tear falling down her cheek he thought better of it, and lowered his hand back to his side.

Without another word Jack stepped around her and moved to his bedroom. He stripped to his underclothes and fell on the covers, falling asleep almost instantly.

When he woke and found himself alone, Jack panicked.

Sitting up in bed with a start he looked around the room for signs of her, and found nothing. Scrambling from the bed Jack didn’t bother with slippers or a dressing gown, he simply walked through the house in his underwear and vest.

“Phryne?!” He called. The sitting room was empty, but two whiskey glasses still sat on the table where he had left them. “Phryne!?”

“Jack?”

Jack spun on the spot and found Phryne standing in the doorway to the kitchen. She smiled at him a little hesitantly.

“Sorry,” she murmured, “I was just admiring your garden from the window. I never knew you had a dog!”

Breathing a sigh of relief she was still here, that she hadn’t left him, Jack could only nod.

“Molly.” he said eventually, “Her name’s Molly.”

///

An hour and a half later Jack had showered, shaved and dressed and was walking with Phryne once more back into City South. Jack pushed open the heavy door and Hugh looked up from behind the desk.

“Hello sir,” he said as the door swung shut behind Phryne.

“Collins. How did it go yesterday, with the pawn shops?”

Phryne raised an eyebrow, “I thought you weren’t investigating this one, Inspector.” she teased.

Jack ignored her.

“We uh, tracked the missing jewellery, sir.” Hugh said, “In a pawn shop just round the corner from the alleyway. And the owner gave us a good description of the man who brought it in. We’re looking for him now.”

“Good. Anything else?”

Hugh hesitated. “Just,” he said, “Just the coroner's report, sir.”

Jack held out a hand, and Hugh scrambled to find it on the desk before passing it over.

“Good man, Collins.”

Phryne and Jack moved to his office then, Jack taking a seat behind his desk as Phryne sat on it.

“Anything interesting?” Phryne asked as Jack opened the report and scanned over it.

“Nothing we didn’t already know.” He murmured, “Strong blow to the back of the head, stab wound to the lower back, leading to exsanguination. Although there was skin found beneath the fingernails. Whoever did it will have a nasty scratch somewhere.”

Phryne smiled, “I wonder if that is part of the ‘good description’ the pawn shop owner gave.”

“We’ll have to wait and see.” Jack said, dropping the report on his desk.

They didn’t end up waiting very long. In fact, by the end of the day Hugh himself had found the man described by the pawn shop owner. He had claw like scratches right across his face, and a very large amount of cash on his person, along with a blood smeared dagger.

He confessed, sobbing into his hands to Collins in the interview room about his debt and his addiction. He had been withdrawing from opium, and desperate for more. The rich lady had just been there, her jewels glinting in the moonlight too tempting to ignore. But she had fought him, scratched his face and pulled a dagger and before he knew what he was doing he’d taken it from her and stabbed her in the back. Her head had hit the ground with a crunch and he robbed her before running to pawn the jewels and head to Chinatown.

Jack felt sick to his stomach as he read the statement later that night.

Two days later he stood in his office, replacing his usual cufflinks for the more lavish ones Phryne had given him at Christmas. He was dressed in a charcoal grey suit, his hair slicked back, his shoes freshly polished.

Phryne sat on his desk with an admiring smile.

“You do look good in a suit, Jack.” she said. “Very smart.”

He raised his eyebrows, “Yes, well.” he murmured, “It’s only right I look somewhat presentable.”

“Are you almost ready?”

“Yes.”

She smiled, “Shall we go then? It wouldn’t do if we were late, would it!”

“No,” Jack agreed. He pulled on his overcoat and donned his hat, then opened his office door and stepped out, leading the way.

The drive to the church was short, too short Jack thought. He hated churches, had done ever since the war ended. But he hated funerals more.

He parked, and Phryne looked at him carefully.

“Are you ready darling?” she asked.

“Not really.”

She offered him a weak smile. She understood. “Let’s go inside.”

He nodded, alighting from the car with some effort. Slowly he walked to the large building. It was a fine church, and people were milling around everywhere, all dressed solemnly in black.

There were flowers everywhere, Jack thought, perhaps all the flowers in Melbourne.

People were making their way into the church, so many friends, old and new. Travelled from all across the state, Jack’s steps began to hasten. But as he reached the doors he paused, turning to look for Phryne. She was still by the car, watching him with a strange expression on her face. He opened his mouth to call for her, when another call distracted his attention.

“Inspector!”

He turned with surprise to the source of the noise, and found himself with his arms full of Mrs Collins, his Senior Constable standing awkwardly a few paces behind. Jack frowned at the weeping woman, unsure what to do. He patted her back, and looked back over his shoulder to Phryne. Only she wasn’t there.

But of course she wasn’t, he thought. She never had been.

Jack looked back through the doors of the church. The last thing he wanted to do was walk through those doors. But he would. He had to. For Phryne.

Setting his jaw he forced a kind look onto his face, and as steadily as he could he murmured down to Dorothy in his arms.

“Why don’t we walk in together, Mrs Collins?”

Dorothy nodded, pulling back from his arms and wiping her eyes futilely in her handkerchief. Hugh stepped closer, wrapping his large arm across her shoulders, and together the three of them walked through the doorway and into the church.

They walked slowly, the aisle full of people trying to find a pew to sit in, but eventually made it to the front. Hugh helped Dot to sit shakily, and Jack sat on her other side. Across the aisle sat Mac, her face set to firm stone. He had seen that look on her before. Her hand was clasped tightly in another and Jack looked past her to see Prudence. Quickly he looked away, unable to face her sadness.

Instead his eyes found the casket.

It lay upon a plinth at the altar, almost directly in front of him. The top was open, and there she was. Phryne lay on a bed of silk and flowers, her hands crossed over her front, her eyes closed. Her black hair contrasted starkly against her pale skin and the white of the silk, but Jack couldn’t bear to tear his eyes away from her.

He did not cry, though his throat closed with a large lump he couldn’t swallow, and his chest felt all too tight. Dot took his hand as the priest spoke, and he found himself gripping her small fingers. She shook as she wept, and next to her Hugh tried his best to hold and comfort her, tears of his own sliding slowly down his face.

As the service ended Jack and Hugh both stood. They walked a few short steps to the casket as it was closed and were met by Mac, Bert, Cec and Mr Butler. Jack stood at the front with Mac, Cec and Bert behind them, Mr Butler and Hugh at the end. Each of them took a handle, and together they raised the casket into the air.

Somehow it felt heavier this time, Jack thought. The weight on his shoulder so much greater than when he had done the same task for his father, his best mate, his mother… Swallowing hard he took each step one at time, catching sight of Phryne’s friends watching with tears in their eyes. Raymond Hirsch and Samson the strongman. Mr and Mrs Lin next to Georgina Charlesworth and the Fleuri sisters. Bart Tarrant and his daughter Leila. Cec’s girl Alice and young Ruth and her grandmother, even Rosie.

He blinked and looked away, unable to stand the sympathy in her eyes.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Jack watched them lower her casket next to the place her sister had been buried just over a year ago. He gave Hugh his keys and let the younger man drive him to her house on the Esplanade where they raised a glass and had a drink in her honour. He listened as Mac recounted the story of how they met, and Miss Charlesworth reminisced over the smart but grubby girl she’d once taught.

Most of it passed him by, Jack sitting in the window seat where he’d once told her of his boyhood adventures, nursing a drink.

Afterwards he drove mindlessly home, let his young mutt Molly inside and tried to forget the world.

///

_“Do you love me?” He had asked. They had been fighting for over an hour already, and his lowered voice took her by surprise after the yelling. The cool change in his demeanor worrying her as he watched her with careful eyes._

_“How can you ask that?” she whispered, “Of course I- you know that I do.”_

_“Then say it, Phryne, please.”_

_Her eyes watered but she blinked them back, her voice unsteady as she murmured. “I can’t.”_

_“Why not? After all this time Phryne, everything we’ve faced together, why can’t you say it?”_

_“I’m not ready, Jack.”_

_He swallowed, “Will you ever be ready? Or will this go on forever? Me spending my entire life left wondering, giving you everything I have to give and never hearing those words. Because I can’t do that Phryne, I can’t not know.”_

_“You do know! I tell you with every kiss, Jack, every touch.” She looked at him desperately, so tired from fighting. All she wanted was to curl into his arms, to let the worries wash away._

_He swallowed thickly, “I just want to hear you say it.” He murmured._

_“Why is this so important to you?”_

_“Why isn’t it important to you?” Jack demanded, and suddenly he wasn’t whispering anymore, “Why are you so scared to commit even those words to me? We are supposed to be equals Phryne, but this is not equal if you won’t let yourself- You’re still holding back so much Phryne. All the time, you’re hiding. I thought this meant more to you. I thought what we had was- that this was everything. Clearly I was mistaken.”_

_“Jack, wait-”_

_“I can’t do this anymore Phryne. I can’t do this without knowing if you’re as invested as I am.”_

_She stared at him, tears welling in her eyes, and this time she didn’t blink them away. Her lips trembled, and he waited, every fibre of his being paused on a precipice, about to fall. But the seconds ticked by and she couldn’t say a word._

_Swallowing thickly Jack just nodded. He didn’t say anything as he collected his coat and his hat. And as he opened her door and walked from her house she didn’t rush after him. She stood frozen to the spot, watching as he reached his car, gave her one last look, and drove away._

Now, a week later -how had it been only a week?- Jack crouched over her grave and sobbed. He placed the flowers he’d brought on the ground damp with last night’s rain, and cried pitifully on his knees for her.

“I forgive you Phryne. And I’m so sorry. I should never have said those things. Should never have pressured you- I’m sorry Phryne. I’m so sorry, my love.” He wept, reaching out a hand to trace the letters of her name, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Jack spun madly on the spot with shock, not caring that he sat in the wet dirt because standing before him was Phryne, still dressed in that fine coat she had been found in. He swallowed. It really was a shame about the blood.

Staring at her he scrambled to his feet, stepping closer and reaching out a hand. Her eyes closed sadly as his fingers brushed through her and fresh tears filled his eyes.

“Phryne.” he whispered.

“Jack.”

“I- ..."

She smiled sadly, “I know.”

He swallowed thickly. “You left me your house.”

Phryne nodded, laughing slightly at his choice of topic. “I did.”

“And your money- Phryne I don’t think I can-”

“You don’t have to do anything, Jack. Donate money if you prefer. Sell the house, live in it. Board it up and let it grow old without us, I don’t care.”

“Why me, Phryne, what about your family?”

“All the rest of my property has gone to my parents or Jane.” Phryne murmured, “I was very careful living as a detective Jack. I met with my solicitor often. Everything that was important was left to who I felt should have it.”

They stood in silence. He longed to touch her but didn’t dare move to, and have his heart broken yet again as his hand fell through her.

“I miss you.” Jack said eventually. “I miss you more than I ever thought myself capable of.”

Phryne nodded, sad understanding in her eyes. “I… there’s someone I wanted you to meet.”

Jack frowned, and Phryne held out her hand looking past him, and just to his left. He turned to follow her gaze and started at the sight of a young girl standing next to him. She looked to be about eight or nine years old, her blonde hair pulled into two plaits tied with blue ribbon.

“Janey.” he murmured, and the young girl smiled.

“Hello.”

Janey walked over to join her sister, taking Phryne’s hand happily and looking up to say “He is very handsome.”

Phryne laughed and Jack gaped, dumbfounded. He had thought Phryne to be a figment of his imagination -a part of him losing his mind in grief- but here was Janey, a girl he had never met, and somehow he knew it was really her.

“I… Thank you, Janey.”

Phryne laughed again and Janey giggled. “You don’t have to worry, Mr Jack. I am going to keep Phryne company.”

Jack nodded, “I couldn’t think of anyone better for the job,” he told her.

Janey grinned, then dropped her sister’s hand and ran towards him, her arms wide like she planned to hug him around the middle. But she ran right through him, and when Jack turned she had gone again, her laughter lingering in the air.

“It is so wonderful,” Phryne whispered, “to have her back.”

Jack turned back, glad to see Phryne hadn’t vanished too. “And Arthur?” he asked.

“Is delightful. And he has as many toffee apples and scallop pies as his heart could ever desire.” She smiled and Jack couldn’t help but smile back.

“You’re aunt would be glad to hear that. She is talking about leaving Melbourne, and heading for England.”

“To be within social distance of my father?” Phryne grinned, “I can hardly believe it.”

Jack gave a short laugh, “Yes well, it would also be closer to her sister and son, and Jane.”

“How is Jane?” Phryne asked, “Have you heard?”

“No. I believe Mrs Stanley and Dot have been telegraphing them, but I’ve not heard what about. I wrote to her, a few days ago.”

Phryne nodded. “You will look out for her? She wanted to return to Australia after she’d finished her study, to work under Mac- You’ll be here for her won’t you Jack? If she needs you? And if she doesn’t. She did always love you. Us. The mistletoe...”

Jack looked away, he did not want to cry again. But he met her eyes again before he spoke.

“Of course I will, Phryne.”

“Will you visit me?” she asked, “Here I mean. I don’t know if I will be able to come back but- even if I can’t Jack, will you come see me?”

Jack lost his battle, tears welling in his eyes once again. “Everyday if you’d like.”

“No, Jack. You need to look after yourself. You need to live your life, fully and love again. I won’t let you waste away over my grave.”

He met her eyes, a small watery smile pulling at his lips. “I’ll live to the hilt.” he murmured. “I won’t waste a moment.”

Phryne gave short cry, “Just know I’ll be looking over you Jack Robinson. And,” she swallowed tearfully, “please know, darling, how I love you.”

“I love you too.” Jack whispered. “Always, Phryne.”

He closed his eyes then and took a slow deep breath, then stepped forward. As he stepped through her, eyes still closed, she faded with her goodbye on a whisper. He smiled sadly, thinking to himself as his eyes opened once more, that even if he didn't know how long it would take, he knew that one day he would join her. And that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> The fic title comes from this song (the link should take you to about the 51:30 mark, cause i could only find a video with the whole album) https://youtu.be/rdo2SGBE-xU?t=3089


End file.
